Page 42 of Operation: Ogre

“Not really, no,” I said after a second. “Shifters will be most affected, but this is my only form.” Many monsters had different forms, but I was just me, so the blood moon wouldn’t have the same extreme effect on me.

He rubbed his face on my arm. “Good. I figured, I just wanted to be sure.”

My heart pounded so loudly I feared he would be able to hear it. Chris was just so special. I came to a stop, and he looked at me. I gently nudged his chin up and pressed my lips to his. He moaned, and I swallowed the sound. It was mine, like he was. I teased him with the tip of my tongue, and he made a whiny, needy noise that stirred my soul.

With slow movements, I kissed him, tracing every part of his mouth. Chris gripped the front of my shirt as he returned my gentle exploration with his own. He seemed as desirous as me, as wanting as me, as loving as me. My hands slid down his sides and came to rest on his narrow hips.

Chris pressed closer, and I shivered when his groin pressed against my thigh—he was hard. I rocked into him, and he took a sharp inhale. I flicked the tip of my tongue against his upper lip, then whispered, “Can I? Please.”

“What?”

I chuckled, cupping his cheek. “Can I take care of that?” I brushed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I want to taste you so bad. Fuck, I want to be on my knees for you.”

An unexpected flush burned his cheeks, and his eyes widened. I blinked. He seemed so shocked. Blow jobs were hardly odd, and I quite liked giving them. I hoped Chris would want me to suck him off. Often. I liked the thought of being on my knees for him and him using my mouth to feel good.

“I-I-I.” Chris swallowed, and his blush deepened as well as started to spread to his adorably round ears.

An odd thought sprang into my head, but it couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. But I couldn’t put it out of my mind. I stroked his cheek with my thumb. “Baby, can I ask you something?”

His mouth just opened and closed; not a single word came out.

“Chris, baby, have you…” I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to accuse him of anything or say he lied. I especially didn’t want to hurt him or end this before we’d even started. But I couldn’t not ask. I forged forward. “Baby, have you actually had sex before?”

“Wh-what?” His flush deepened.

“You just seem so…” Inexperienced, but I didn’t want to say that. Our first kiss had been so hesitant. And every new thing seemed to shock him, and he was so nervous.

Chris looked down and pulled away, or rather tried to pull away from me. I drew him closer; I wouldn’t relinquish him. Not ever. I pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead. “I don’t care, baby. Whatever the answer is, I don’t care. I just care about you.”

His eyes flicked up to mine, then away, but it was long enough for me to see the sheen. That plus his softening cock, his slumped shoulders, and the gentle shaking of his body, gave me the answer. I pressed yet another kiss to his temple.

“Can you tell me?” I asked in a whisper. “Please.”

“I didn’t mean to lie.” He shook his head, his black hair covering his face. “Well, I did. At first. Not now.”

I brushed his hair back and nudged him up so our gazes met. The instant his deep brown eyes clashed with mine, a warm symphony started in my chest and spread like roots to every part of my being. I kissed his eyelids, trying to convey even a fraction of my feelings. Chris took a shuddering breath.

“Tell me, baby.”

“It was a lie. One stupid lie freshman year of high school.”

As the story spilled out, I nodded along and ran my hand up and down his back in what I hoped was a comforting motion. When he finished, I couldn’t help but snuggle him close, and he gripped the back of my shirt, holding me tight.

“I’m so sorry, big guy. I didn’t mean to. I swear I never meant to.”

“I know.” And I did. Chris wouldn’t lie intentionally to me.

“Please don’t leave me. I’m so sorry.”

I blinked as I gripped him tight enough to leave bruises. “Never.” I practically snarled the world. “I will never leave you, Christopher.”

He sniffled, pushing his face against me.

I started rubbing his back once again to comfort him. “It makes sense why you did.”

“It does?” He looked up at me, and I wiped a tear that was on his cheek, my heart about shattering. I did not like my Chris crying, not at all.

Giving his cheek a couple more rubs with my thumb, I replied, “It does. You were a year older than everyone else. You wanted everyone to see you as older, as your age, as more mature. You were overcompensating. It makes sense to me.”